


Of Land and Sea

by Octagoni



Series: Of Land and Sea [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: AU, Case Fic, Dive instructor! John, Friends to Lovers, John is a SCUBA instructor, M/M, alternate first meeting, alternate universe- SUCBA diving, and the ocean, diving incidents, learn about scuba, rated mature for language murder and potential awkward boners in a wetsuit, scuba, set in Okinawa Japan, there will be some kissing but no sex in this fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-18
Updated: 2018-01-17
Packaged: 2019-03-06 07:33:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13406451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Octagoni/pseuds/Octagoni
Summary: I was inspired by a photo of Benedict Cumberbatch in dive gear, and had to make this fic a reality.A series of SCUBA diving related accidents have been plaguing a group of highly trained British intelligence agents stationed in the Pacific, and Mycroft needs a man on the inside to help uncover the cause and possible traitor. Sherlock is recruited for the mission, but first he must learn how to SCUBA dive. Cue John Watson, retired army doctor and current dive instructor. John insists on showing Sherlock the island and his favorite beaches, and it doesn’t take long for something more to develop between them. In addition to being useful in the field, John is supportive and protective.





	Of Land and Sea

**Author's Note:**

> This is a WIP, and I think it will end up being between 8-10 chapters. I don't have a posting schedule, but have every intention of finishing this fic.

Chapter 1: The Assignment

 

“No. Absolutely not.”

 

“Sherlock, we’ve been over this. There is no one else whom I can trust with this information. If this is an inside job, I don’t want word reaching the culprit before we can apprehend them.” Mycroft leaned back against the front of his desk, his legs crossed at the ankle. 

 

“Hmm… no. Sorry Mycroft. Can’t spare the time,” came the feigned bored reply from Sherlock who did his best to look distracted by something outside.

 

“I have it on good authority that you haven’t had a real case in weeks, Sherlock. You’ve barely left your flat.”

 

“Oh, yes of course. You’ve been spying on me again.”

 

Mycroft just arched a questioning eyebrow at him.

 

“No. That’s not it.” He appraised his brother’s slightly rumpled trousers, made the connection to the two dirty glasses next to the decanter, the bags under his eyes, the indents from the desk having been moved approximately four inches back, and the dirt on his now visible soles. Sherlock’s eyes widened with the realization, and his delight at being able to deduce Mycroft quickly turned into a scowl. “Really, Mycroft? Gareth? So much for love being a dangerous disadvantage.”

 

“Who? What are you implying, Sherlock?”

 

“Gareth Lestrade! You’ve been seeing him. Has he been spying on me for you?”

 

“It’s Greg.”

 

“So, no denial there? Is this why he hasn’t called me in? I knew the scum of London haven’t been idle,” Sherlock said with a slight frown. “He has been too busy, what, drinking scotch in your office until three AM to do his job?”

 

“If you were to do this for me, I’m sure I could… influence him to consult you on a few cases,” Mycroft said with a tight-lipped smile. “Two weeks. Maximum. Think of it as a paid vacation. I hear Okinawa is beautiful this time of year.” Mycroft moved to show Sherlock the photos of the recovered bodies still dawned in their SCUBA gear. “I need someone I can trust, with great acting skills who also understands chemistry and can test their air supply for abnormalities. Please, Sherlock. I would consider it a personal favour.”

 

Sherlock reviewed the case notes. Two men trained in underwater operations had been lost during a routine training dive then found dead only a week apart. The cause of death was unknown, and no one witnessed any abnormal behaviour above or below the water. Foul play was suspected, but the bodies showed no signs of drowning or injury. They were young, maybe early 30’s, and fit, so it wasn’t likely that they suffered from any health issues. It was obvious why Mycroft hadn’t recruited the local police; it was best to keep an incident like this under wraps.

 

Sherlock reluctantly agreed if only to have his brother owe him one in turn. He couldn’t turn down an interesting case, and maybe a little sun would be good for him. 

 

“Pack your swimming trunks, Sherlock. You leave first thing in the morning. Oh, and don’t forget sunscreen. You always did burn so easily, little brother.”

 

 

His nearly 15 hour flight into Hong Kong had been horrendous. Even flying first class couldn’t save him from the boredom of being stuck on a plane for that length of time. Deducing his fellow passengers had been amusing for a beat. Most of them had been tourists. Boring. It was when he deduced the love affair between two flight attendants who were sleeping together behind another’s back that it got ugly. He’d had a drink thrown in his face, and the resulting argument between the three attendants was almost enough for the pilot to pull an emergency landing. They’d been happy to hit his leg with the cart every chance they got and made sure to forget or completely change his meal and drink orders after that incident. By the time he was boarding his flight into Naha, he was relieved.

 

The first thing that hit him when he exited the plane was the stifling humidity. It was hot in the way only the tropics could be. It was nearly suffocating, and he hadn’t even stepped outside yet. How was he expected to apprehend a killer in this heat? 

 

Unlike at the airport in Hong Kong, the people in Okinawa were calm and relaxed. They were polite and seemed in no rush to get anywhere. It was a stark contrast to what he was used to seeing in London. Island life must have that influence on people- like the stress just melts away.

 

As he stepped outside, he noticed the smell of the sea was all around him, and he was very aware of its presence as if just over the next hill, he would see it. He should have been paying more attention to the geography of the island on the flight in, but he was so exhausted that he couldn’t care to look.

 

He quickly located the car sent to pick him up, thankful to see a full size white plate and not one of those tiny kei cars everyone seemed to adore but could barely make it up a good-sized hill. He needed to lay down, and he was certain he wouldn’t even be able to sit in one of those let alone extend his legs. 

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

It was early, too early. Sherlock woke to the sound of his alarm clock blaring to notice that it was still dark outside of his hotel window overlooking the sea. He was scheduled to attend a SCUBA class at 6 am this morning. He was able to read up on the terminology and techniques on the flight over, but was still a bit out of his depth when it came to putting that knowledge into practice. They were set to meet at the Sunabe Seawall, about three kilometers north of his room at the Hilton.

 

The area he was staying in, Chatan or American Village they called it, was across from the U.S. Marines base and near the Airforce base as well. It was a good location to set up, tactically, but the shops were flooded with tourists and American military and their families. Luckily the hotel was a bit removed from all of that. It was a popular dive location for locals and tourists alike, and he wouldn’t look out of place as a prospective SCUBA diving student or later as a diver.

 

After a taking a shower, dressing in some khaki flat front shorts and a blue t-shirt, and packing his board shorts and new dive gear Mycroft had sent over to him last night, Aqualung- top of the line, he made his way down to the rental car. He drove along 58 heading North until google maps indicated that he should turn left toward the seawall. He finally made his way past the apartment buildings, restaurants, and dive shops to the parking along the left side of the wall. 

 

Even though it was 5:50 and the sun was just coming up, there were few parking spots available. He drove slowly past groups of divers in wetsuits setting up their gear, and people attempting to change under their towels right there on the sidewalk. A group of young surfers crossed in front of him boards in tow and headed up the steps to the wall. Everyone seemed so carefree like a morning dive or swim before the work day started was second nature. 

 

He pulled up alongside a large van outfitted to carry cylinders and backed into a spot near their meeting point by the picnic tables. He didn’t look forward to shutting off the car and leaving the haven of air conditioning, but he supposed he would be getting in the water soon enough. 

 

As he made his way up the steps to the seawall, he heard the waves crashing against the wall below. Once at the top, he leaned on the railing and surveyed the shore. The wall extended several kilometers along the coast to protect the surrounding area form the waves during a typhoon. The wind blew salt water onto his face and coated his hair. It was a refreshing break from the suffocating heat. 

 

In the distance, he could see the surfers making their way out to the reef crest where the small waves were breaking. To his right, standing in waist deep water, was a tour guide and a group of divers getting ready to snorkel out to the reef crest. He could overhear the guide warning them of a stubborn scorpion fish that refused to budge from its spot along the chain inexperienced divers followed out to the crest. 

 

He was startled out of his observation by a stray cat that had walked along the railing to headbutt his shoulder in a demand for attention or food, probably food. The orange tabby who was missing half of an ear, altered then in a trap neuter release program, purred as Sherlock stroked his head and scratched behind his ear.

“Oh, aren’t you a sweetheart. I bet you get all of the divers to share their lunch with you, don’t you? Well, I’m sorry tough guy; I don’t have any food for you.”

 

He watched as the cat, now disinterested in his lack of food, walked down the rail to his left to accost the other divers. As he followed the cat’s movements, he noticed out of the corner of his eye a man walking toward him.

 

He turned to fully face the man and was not prepared for the scene that would imbed itself into his memory for the rest of his life. He was unlike anyone Sherlock had ever laid eyes on; his body was strong and compact, his bare chest glistening with mingling seawater and sweat. The top half of his wetsuit hung behind him as he strode toward Sherlock. The bottom half snugged his muscular thighs, and his bare feet were leaving wet footprints on the cement as he walked. His military short greying blond hair was sticking up in all directions from the salt, and his short scruff on his chin caught the morning sunlight. He was carrying a 12 liter steel cylinder over his right shoulder with ease. As he got closer, Sherlock could see the prominent scar on his left shoulder, wounded in action then. It wasn’t until the man was a few meters away that Sherlock could see his eyes. He was blown away. They looked as if they held the secrets of the depths of the oceans within, and Sherlock had to make a conscious decision not to gape like a fish. The diver held his full attention. 

 

“I see Tucker has taken a liking to you.“ The man nodded toward the cat. “You must be my 6AM.” He moved to shake Sherlock’s hand, “Sorry, my hand’s wet. Just went for a quick swim. John Watson; nice to meet you”

 

As soon as his skin touched Sherlock’s it was like an electric shock shot up his arm. He was overwhelmed by the strength and kindness in the gesture until he looked up to see John giving him a beaming smile and felt like he might fall over.

 

He hadn’t even stepped foot in the water, and he already felt like he was drowning. This was not going to be good.

 

“Sherlock Holmes.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know if there are any terms or things you guys need explained. Please feel free to look up these sites and check my tumblr for the tags "Okinawa" and "ocean" for photos from my time stationed in Oki. I'm one-lost-at-sea on tumblr. Stop by and say hello.


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